Sitting, Waiting, Wishing
by Arsahi
Summary: The TAC has always been steeped in one thing--secrets. A few years after the end of Blue Seed, it seems the TAC has more secrets still. CHP 7 UP!
1. Absence

**Title**: Sitting, Waiting, Wishing  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Rated**: I dunno. T?  
**Notes**: This is a Momiji/Kusanagi fic, despite indications otherwise in this chapter. It's post Blue Seed, of course, and I've never seen the OAV so that's not even included in this. Sadly, Blue Seed and its characters do not belong to me.

**Chapter One**  
Absence

The spring that year was cold, colder than any spring Momiji Fujimiya could remember. She was only nineteen years old and the last three years had been, instead of a pleasant dream, a frightening nightmare out of the worst depths of her imagination. Even thinking of what had just occured in the building behind her brought series of shivers down her spine again and clouded her vision with tears. Putting a hand to her mouth and drawing her jacket tighter around her, Momiji looked up to the frigid blue sky and thought fiercely to herself, _Good riddance to you, then. I never needed you anyway._

With a slow, plodding pace, Momiji set off down the sidewalk with her head bowed, relying on her feet to carry her to the train station by themselves. Her thoughts swirled tumultuously in her head, throbbing with the low thrum of a fluttering broken heart, as she struggled to cope with what had just happened. What _had_ just happened? She found herself wondering if what had gone down inside of the TAC building had actually occured or if she had dreamed it, and Momiji stopped on the sidewalk, pinching herself roughly. Pain blossomed in the wake of her fingers and she dropped her face into her hands, fighting back the tears that threatened to trickle down her cheeks.

"Momiji!"

She faintly heard someone call her name but she honestly didn't feel like speaking with anyone and ducked into the nearest door she could find. Ironic, she mused, noting it was a sweets shop and beginning to absently rifle through the contents of a nearby barrel full of wrapped candies. The soft ringing of the bell above the door of the shop caught her attention, though she didn't make a move to look at the newcomer.

"Momiji, there you are."

Sugishita? "I'm not really in the mood to talk to anyone right now, Sugishita..." Momiji mumbled, wiping furiously at her eyes as silent admissions of pain made slow paths down her milky complexion.

The blond policeman reached out a hand to tentatively touch her shoulder and felt her freeze. "Do you really feel that way, Momiji...?"

Try as she might, Momiji just could not keep her face from crumpling into soft sobs and she threw herself into Sugishita's waiting embrace. "I'm so sorry..." she said after a few moments, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hands and Sugishita kissed her forehead.

"Why don't we go get a cup of tea at my apartment?" he asked her gently, removing his jacket and placing it over her trembling shoulders as they stepped out of the building. Momiji drew the added warmth around her and took a deep, steadying breath, inhaling the sharp scent of Sugishita's expensive cologne. The policeman laid a friendly, gentle hand on the chestnut-haired Kushinada, steering her towards his waiting car, parked across the street.

Wordlessly, Momiji let him open the passenger side door for her and barely felt him nudge her inside as she took her seat. Mechinacally, she buckled her seatbelt, lost in her thoughts as Sugishita slid into the driver's seat and started up the car.

"Don't worry, Momiji," he said softly, trying to catch her emerald eyes, usually bright with good humor. "Trust me...you don't need him."

Momiji looked sharply up at him, clutching the fabric of her skirt in a death grip.

When Momiji entered Sugishita's apartment, she hadn't expected to see what she did. It was neat and orderly and looked half lived in, the TV running on mute in the corner of the room. It consisted mainly of the front room, a small kitchen on the far right of the room from the front door and the living room to the left. A metal-frammed glass coffee table with a small potted plant sat in front of the pale green, ratty sofa, a matching recliner in slightly better condition positioned exactly in front of the television set. The TV sat on a black entertainment center, two tall speakers flanking it with a VCR and DVD player directly under the TV. A small collection of DVDs and VHS tapes took up the shelf above the television, and at the very bottom of the entertainment center sat a very expensive looking stereo. The wall furthest left of the room opened up into a narrow balcony, wide enough for an angled chair and a small table.

A bookcase was built into the wall above Sugishita's sofa with the two topmost shelves taken up by books and the remaining three shelves cluttered with CDs and old cassette tapes. An end table between the sofa and recliner sported a lamp and a couple of framed pictures, and even from the doorway Momiji could see the dark glint of Ryoko Takeuchi-Kunikida's hair in one of the photographs. A dimly lit hallway divided the kitchen from the living room, and Momiji assumed that following that hallway would lead one to Sugishita's bedroom and bathroom.

"May I take your coat?" Sugishita asked, holding his hand out to Momiji as he slipped off his shoes and into a pair of slippers. Silently, she removed both of the coats she wore and handed them to him, following his example with her shoes.

Quickly, Sugishita hung up their coats in the threshold closet and said to Momiji, "Make yourself at home. The television has satellite channels, and you can turn on the stereo if you want. I'll go put a kettle of water on the stove to boil."

Momiji nodded to him and slowly made her way towards the worn recliner, touching the top of the chair and looking over her shoulder. She watched Sugishita turn off the overhead kitchen light and open the blinds of the window above the sink, grab the kettle, and fill it with water before she turned back to the living room. It was quite roomy for an apartment, Momiji decided, looking over at the television for a moment and walking over to it to push the volume up button. The speakers suddenly blared into life as a game show revealed possible prizes to one of the contestants.

Slowly easing herself down, Momiji studied the pictures sitting on Sugishita's end table. As she saw from the doorway, a picture of Ryoko and Sugishita sat front and center. They looked to be in a park somewhere and both of Ryoko's eyes were visible for once, Momiji noticed with an empty smile. Sugishita's hand sat comfortably on the smaller woman's shoulder and he was flashing a victory sign at the camera with a large grin while Ryoko blushed lightly and smiled serenely. They both looked decades younger.

The next picture was of a sandy-haired young girl and dark-headed boy, the latter of which was holding bunny ears behind the former's head. The little girl had a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks, her short hair tied up on either side of her head, as bright green eyes flashed happily at the camera. The boy's chocolate eyes looked put out though a half-hearted smirk graced his mouth, and his posture seemed very defensive. They were seated at a dining room table, the girl with her hands folded neatly atop the surface and the boy with only one arm splayed precariously there. The corner of a framed picture was above the small girl's head, nothing but elegantly crafted wallpaper behind the boy.

The third frame held the image of a tall, noble-looking redhead staring perspicaciously at the photographer. Her brilliant blue eyes looked annoyed and suspicious with her full, crimson mouth set in a thin line. Her complexion looked almost like carved porcelain with one hand, nails lacquered the red of her mouth, grasping the handle of a paper sun umbrella. The other hand sat balanced upon her curvaceous hip, and Momiji noticed for the first time what the woman was wearing. The crimson dress reached up to the woman's neck, clasping around the back of it, and falling in a slinky encasement down towards the bottom of the photograph. Momiji leaned closer and noticed black lines running through the dress and barely made out what looked to be flowers of some type embroided into the very fabric. The woman's breasts looked ready to pop out of the dress she wore, the nineteen-year-old noted with a scowl, touching the spot where she had once held a mitama.

"That's Reikae Takagawa," Sugishita said softly, startling Momiji with his voice. He set the tea tray down on the coffee table and picked up the two mugs of tea, handing one to Momiji as he sat back in his recliner.

"Reikae Takagawa?" Momiji repeated quietly, the first thing she had said since arriving at Sagishita's apartment.

"She's a movie star overseas," Sagishita replied, taking a sip of his tea and crossing his ankle over the opposite knee. "I grew up next door to her and thought that she would be a model." His mouth twisted into a bittersweet smile as he picked up the frame and stared at it for a few moments, proffering it to Momiji when he was done. "Before I became a police officer I wanted to become a photographer. Reikae was my sweetheart up until the last year of high school, and we always said that I would be her personal photographer, and her agent." He gave a quiet laugh. "That didn't work out too well. The last year of high school she was discovered by an American agency when she visited during a summer trip to Los Angeles with her parents." Taking another drink of his tea, he looked to Momiji and gave her a small smile. "Reikae, Ryoko, and I all grew up together."

Momiji blinked and said, "You did?"

Nodding, Sugishita continued. "After Reikae moved to America, suddenly it was just Ryoko and I." Absently, he pointed to the picture of he and Ryoko. "She and I got much closer during our senior year, and I started to fall in love with her. Reikae had blinded me to it before, but Ryoko had been in love with me for a long time." Pausing, he looked fondly at the framed picture. "I still didn't see it until the day she told me that she had enrolled in the police academy."

"Did you become a police officer because of Ryoko?" Momiji wanted to know, the ache of her heart forgotten for the moment.

"Yes," Sugishita admitted, his eyes glinting with a reminiscent amusement. "My future fell apart when Reikae left for America and honestly, I had nothing in mind as to what I could do with my life so I did what I had planned on before: following the woman of my desires into her chosen career." Laughing embarrassedly, Sugishita waved his free hand. "Not that I don't enjoy being a police officer. The experiences these last few years have offered are incredible..."

"Who are the boy and the girl in this picture?" Momiji wanted to know, trying to delay baring her heart to Sugishita for as long as possible.

"The little girl is Toriko and the little boy is Akito," he explained patiently. "Toriko is my little sister; she was eight years old in that picture, and Akito was the boy who lived in the house next door after Reikae moved out." With a wry smile, he continued, "Toriko and Akito are supposed to get married in June."

Momiji nodded and took a lukewarm gulp of tea, not really tasting it. "They look cute. Are they happy together?"

"To be honest," Sugishita confessed, "I don't understand their relationship. When they aren't kissing, they do nothing but argue and fight. Though, Toriko hasn't come to my mother or I with any complaints, so I can only assume that she has the time of her life with him. Toriko has always been a bit stubborn, but she and Akito have known each other for years and know how the other works."

A comfortable silence nestled between the police officer and the Kushinada, broken only by soft slurping noises from the mugs of tea. Finally, Sugishita placed his mug on the tea tray and leaned forward, both feet firmly on the floor, as he balanced both elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together.

"Do you want to talk about what happened with you and Kusanagi, Momiji?" he asked as gently as possible.

The girl's heart lurched at the mention of his name and her eyes misted over with fresh tears. _No_, she commanded herself. _No crying in front of Sugishita!_

Sugishita felt like a heel. "I just..."

"He said he wanted to talk to me," Momiji began, her voice quavering. "Alone. So we went up to the rooftop of the TAC building and he told me..." her voice broke, small tears beginning to spill over her cheeks. "He told me that now that the threat of the Aragami was gone, he had no excitement in his life." Momiji's grip on her teacup tightened considerably. "He told me that I was nothing but a clumsy little girl and he just couldn't find what he was looking for in me."

Slowly, Sugishita took the mug from Momiji's death grip and set it on the tray, taking her smaller hands in his.

"He's right, you know," Momiji whispered. "I'm nothing but a foolish, clumsy little girl chasing after a dream hero."

"Princesses are supposed to get their white knights," Sugishita murmured, his heart truly going out to Momiji. He hated to see the normally cheerful, brave woman in such pain, especially because of the half-Aragami Kusanagi.

Momiji shook her head fiercely. "No, that's just it! He told me that I was in love with the idea of him...not in love _with_ him...and he was in love with the danger I brought!" her voice rose to a shriek at that point, her face completely torn asunder with tears.

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, using his thumbs to clear away the girl's tears. "Momiji..."

"Don't you see, Sugishita!" she all but shouted at him. "I'm nothing but a silly little girl in love with a dream! A princess with no happy ending!"

"Momiji." He tried again.

"I'm sorry!" she cried at him, her voice shrill. "I'm sorry, I'm nothing but a screw up! I'm clumsy and stupid and boring! And Kusanagi hates me!"

"Momiji," Sugishita repeated.

"How could I be so _stupid_? I should have...never...been born..." her voice fetered off at the end, her eyes closing as she refused to look at Sugishita.

"Momiji," Sugishita said with a little more force. "Momiji, you saved all of Japan. That's far from being a screw up, sweetheart."

She opened her watery green eyes to stare at Sugishita, his visage made blurry from her tears. Convulsively, her hands gripped at the hem of her blue skirt as she sniffled softly to herself. _I don't deserve friends like this_, she thought darkly. _Sugishita barely even knows me and here he is, comforting me, listening to me whine at him..._

Sugishita kneeled in front of her and kissed her forehead. "You have no idea how much to matter to those who know you."

"I don't matter to Kusanagi," she interjected darkly, her voice strained.

"Then maybe Kusanagi wasn't meant for you," he told her. "There is so much you have to offer and so many people willing to catch you if you fall. Kusanagi is an idiot for brushing you off like this." Sugishita moved one of his hands to brush through her hair, long free of its ribbon at the end of her tresses. "You are so charming, absolutely adorable, and endearing in so many ways, Momiji." For his next sentence he caught her eyes. "And on top of everything, you are a _stunningly_ beautiful woman."

Momiji's response caught Sugishita entirely off-guard.

She leaned into him and kissed him.

()()()

_Eight months later..._

Ryoko Takeuchi-Kunikida brought the mail in from outside, calling to her husband. "Daitetsu, come here. We have something addressed to both of us...it's from Momiji."

Daitetsu Kunikida sprinted into the hallway, stopping when he reached his wife. "From Momiji?"

Wordlessly, Ryoko handed over the hand-written envelope to Daitetsu with a small shrug. "You open it."

Flickering his eyes from his wife to the envelope, Daitetsu began to work at the seal, opening it moments later. Inside he found a beautifully decorated, frilly white card. With a frown, Daitetsu opened the card and read the inscription aloud. "'Dear Mr. and Mrs. Kunikida: You are cordially invited to witness the nuptial ceremony of Momiji Fujimiya and...'"

The card fluttered out of Daitetsu fingers and landed on the floor face up. Ryoko leaned over it and finished reading the rest of it, her eyes going wide.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Kunikida:  
You are cordially invited to witness the nuptial ceremony of Momiji Fujimiya and Shunichi Sugishita._

Please R.S.V.P. by January 2. "Momiji and Sugishita are getting _married_?" Ryoko cried.

()()()

So, a little different. Don't worry, this does end up being Momiji/Kusanagi, they're just taking the long route. Reviews are appreciated! 


	2. Future

**Title**: Sitting, Waiting, Wishing  
**Author**: Arsahi  
**Rated**: T  
**Notes**: Thank you to those who reviewed. Yes, even you, flamer.

**Chapter Two**  
Future

As Sugishita and Momiji exchanged their wedding vows, everyone from the TAC watched in something akin to awe. Even Sakura had managed to open a spot in her busy schedule to gape at the spectacle she had never imagined she would see. The teen idol crossed her arms over her chest and trained her eyes on the couple enraptured with each other and made a gagging noise in the back of her throat. Good thing she was in the back of the yard, she mused, or the TAC would have ripped her a new one for interrupting the sacrifice girl's wedding ceremony.

The branch above Sakura trembled unnaturally for a moment and immediately she felt the presence of an Aragami. _Must be Plant Boy_, she realized, giving a cursory glance upwards. There, perched on the branch of the tree directly above her head, crouched Mamoru Kusanagi, one hand balancing him upon the trunk of the tree. _I wonder what he's doing here? Didn't he leave her?_

Kusanagi looked down and caught the girl's crimson eyes with his own feline ones, conveying with little trouble the threat of violence should she betray his location. Smirking, Sakura shrugged her shoulders and leaned completely against the trunk of the tree, letting her arms fall to her sides. Like she would even care if Kusanagi was there, she thought at him bitterly. Thought it would cause quite the scene at the sacrifice girl's wedding: how much fun that would be!

Giving a soft laugh, Sakura looked back up at Kusanagi. With a start, she realized how handsome the man truly was...his coppery skintone gave way to a crown of dark green-black hair, grown longer these past few years and tied loosely at the back of his head. His feline eyes sparkled a deep, dark color and looked nearly black in the shade of the tree. His nose was small, but not too small, with high cheekbones, and even through the warm clothing he had wrapped around himself, Sakura could see the hard lines of his muscles.

Someone as handsome as Kusanagi didn't deserve someone like Momiji, she decided. Someone as handsome as Kusanagi deserved someone as gorgeous and intelligent as Sakura.

"Hey, Kusanagi," she said, just loudly enough for him to hear.

He didn't even look at her. "What is it, Faith Healer?"

"How is the view from up there?" she wanted to know, looking up at him with a coy smile.

"Leafy," he answered, still not looking at her.

Sakura repositioned her arms to boost her breasts and coughed softly. "Sounds perfect to me. Hoist me up?"

Finally, Kusanagi looked down at her and, as she had hoped, let his eyes travel to her ample chest. Wordlessly, he held out a hand to her and pulled her up to the branch with him when she clasped the offered appendage.

"Much better. I can hardly make out the sacrifice girl and the pervert from here," Sakura said with a note of satisfaction, crossing her legs daintily. She did see the sharp look Kusanagi gave her out of the corner of her eye as she mentioned Momiji's nickname. Lifting a hand to examine her perfectly manicured nails, she began to lose her balance.

Kusanagi grabbed the back of her arm to prevent her from falling backwards from the limb, his eyes now solely on the leaf-shrouded couple making their way back down the aisle. Steadily, he kept his vision trained upon the beautifully-garbed Momiji and her brand new husband as they passed under the tree and flinched when Momiji paused.

Momiji glanced up and saw only Sakura, who gave her a little finger wave and a fake smile and said in English, "Congratulations to the happy couple!"

Rolling his eyes, Sugishita waved back at her and nudged Momiji along. When he risked a look over his shoulder again, though, he saw Kusanagi sitting precariously upon the branch of the tree, Sugishita's death in his eyes.

()()()

"Oi, what a day!" Sakura said to herself as she made her way to the hotel elevator. After Kusanagi had given Sugishita his death threat, the Aragami man had made himself scarce, leaving the pop star to fend for herself at the reception. Honestly, she hadn't expected Kusanagi to attend the reception at all but couldn't help the stab of disappointment at not having succeeded in the day's hunt.

As she exited the elevator and made her way towards her room, she recalled the day's events. The most interesting part had definitely been Kusanagi, she decided with a nod, sliding the key card into the lock. Letting herself in, Sakura dropped the key card on the entryway table, releasing all of her jewelry and slipping off her shoes.

She looked up at the mirror, met her own crimson eyes, and smiled wickedly. "Kusanagi, this is not over yet. I _will_ get you."

Clumsily, Sakura picked at the pins holding her hair up and dropped them in a pile on the bedside table. _The room is too cold_, she realized, shivering. The curtains over the balcony door fluttered noisily in the cold winter wind, and for the life of her, Sakura couldn't remember leaving the door open, or having opened it at all in the two days she had been here. _Strange_, she thought, rising to her feet. She didn't feel anything out of the ordinary in the room, but she did grab the stack of talismans she kept in the bedside table's drawer.

"Show yourself!" Sakura said loudly, poising a talisman between her index and middle fingers. She began to chant softly until the talisman glowed. "I will not say it again! Show yourself!"

"You're really pushy."

Eyes wide in surprise, Sakura released the talisman and ignored its slow descent to the floor. "Kusanagi? What are _you_ doing here?"

Kusanagi stepped out from the screen of the curtains, shutting the balcony door lightly behind him. "I thought we could have a little...chat."

Regarding him warily, Sakura asked, "What do you mean?"

"I think you know exactly what I mean, Faith Healer."

Quietly, Sakura replaced her talismans back inside of the drawer and shut it with a soft _click_. "Are you surrendering to the huntress?" she asked, her voice silky with seductive undertones. Her heart hammered in her chest, quite unused to doing anything but exchanging heated, witty banter with him.

"I believe I am," he purred at her.

()()()

_Four years later..._

"Shun," Momiji said quietly, seated at the table with her hands folded on the surface. Sugishita was busying himself with putting a kettle on the stove to boil for his evening, after work tea. "Shun," she said, louder, when he didn't answer.

"What is it, Momiji," Sugishita answered tiredly, his tone warding off conversation.

Undaunted, Momiji took a breath and let the words tumble from her mouth. "You're never home anymore, and I know you leave work much earlier...hours earlier...than when you get home..."

The metal kettle clanged against the iron gratings of the stovetop as Sugishita dragged it from the surface to fill his waiting mug. "So?"

"So?" Momiji repeated, her voice holding a tone of incredulity. "We have a _daughter_ that hardly sees you, and I get lonely here by myself with just Kasahiko!" Closing her eyes, Momiji clenched her hands into fists. "Are you...are you bored with me, too? Just like Kusanagi?"

"Listen, princess," Sugishita began.

Momiji's eyes flew open as she pushed her chair back, glaring heatedly at her husband. "Don't you dare call me that. That was Kusanagi's nickname for me."

Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, it was Sugishita's turn to make his hand into a fist. He would never raise a hand to his wife, but it helped to squeeze out some of the frustration by balling his hand up. "Dammit, Momiji, it's been almost _five years_! When are you going to let go of that _asshole_ and start paying attention to me, your husband!"

"You knew when you married me, _Shunichi Sugishita_, that my heart belonged first and foremostly to him, and that while I loved you, you would never be first." Her voice held a tremulous note at the end and she moved her hands to grip the hem of her shirt, staring at the floor. "I guess the Kushinada was never meant to be satisfied with anything less than a fairytale ending."

"I never should have asked you to marry me," Sugishita mused lightly, though loudly enough for the emerald-eyed woman across the kitchen from him to hear. "And you never should have accepted the proposal."

Dropping both hands to the desk, Momiji let her head fall forward, feeling a familiar wetness slide down her cheeks. "Shun," she said, her voice wavering, "if you really feel that way...then...you should...we should..."

"Get a divorce," Sugishita supplied. "I love you, Momiji _Sugishita_, but as your heart belongs to Kusanagi...so my heart belongs to Ryoko." His tea abandoned on the counter, he moved to embrace Momiji from behind. "I think both of us were hoping the other would be a miracle cure for all of the pain we've suffered, but we have both suffered too much and came with hearts too bruised to think of mending another."

"If you showed this side of yourself to others, Shun, you would probably find the right woman for you," Momiji whispered, her voice barely audible.

At the kitchen doorway sat two-year-old Kasahiko Fujimiya-Sugishita, daughter of Momiji Fujimiya and Shunichi Sugishita, and the next Princess Kushinada. She had sandy auburn hair, her mother's deep green eyes, and her father's nose. Often she could be found flashing the famous Momiji smile at strangers, but most of all she loved the Sugishita family's dog, a little black puffball of a puppy named Inukai. Now, as she listened to her parents, Inukai sat at her side.

"Papa?" Kasahiko ventured in a small voice, one of her chubby toddler hands resting on Inukai's back.

Sugishita and Momiji turned and found Kasahiko sitting on the floor, immediately lurching forward to grab their daughter. "Kasahiko," Sugishita chided gently, "you shouldn't still be awake."

"Mama and Papa were loud," Kasahiko said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.

"We're sorry," Momiji said softly to the small girl. "We'll try to be more careful."

Together, Sugishita and Momiji put Kasahiko back to bed and returned to the living room, both too wired to even think of sleep. "Who will get Kasahiko?" Momiji spoke quietly, turning her gaze to the stairs.

"You said it yourself, Momiji. I'm barely home anymore. It wouldn't be fair to Kasahiko if she lived with me, as much as it pains me to admit that." Sighing, Sugishita gave a shrug. "Maybe I'll come see her every other weekend. You can have the house."

"Even if I get my job back at the TAC," Momiji said, "I would never be able to pay for the upkeep of this place. Besides, it's your parents' house, the one they gave you as a wedding present, Shun. You keep the house."

"But where will you go?"

"I think...my daughter and I will return to Izumo."

()()()

"We're sorry," the man, Ryuji Hayabara, said, though no trace of remorse touched his voice. "But we just can't keep..." he had to fight not to refer to the strange boy as 'it,' "him here any longer."

His wife nodded emphatically, risking a glance at the sullen boy kicking rocks at the end of the driveway. The social worker sighed and told them, "We can't seem to find a stable home for him. Nobody wants to keep him, and none of us can figure out why..."

Ryuji and his wife just looked knowingly at one another, then once again at the boy. He had a head full of golden hair except for one sweeping lock at his forehead, which was colored a dark green. The little boy's complexion was an eternal dusky color, like a sunset. His eyes were a pale purple, like candied violets, and strange things happened around this child. Not to mention he had three blue mitamas across his chest and one on each thigh. Raised, pale blue spots on the back of his hands and another pale blue spot on his chest promised three more mitamas as his body grew.

His name was Himoru and he had been left at the hospital where the mother had birthed him. Strangely, the mother had disappeared later that evening and left a note upon the bed she was at.

_Dear hospital staff,_

My life as an idol has been compromised by this wretched raisin to which I bestow the name Himoru. I wish for my baby to be given foster care for the time being and perhaps one day I will come in search of him.

The social worker shook her head and sighed, freeing the note's words from her mind. The hospital found that all records of the woman entering the building had been mysteriously trashed and no one could remember who the woman was. The note was unsigned and she seemed to prefer the anonymity, despite the social office's best efforts to locate her.

"Are you absolutely certain Himoru can't stay? He is such a sweet child, really," the social worker said, trying to persude the Hayabara couple to reconsider their decision.

Himoru looked up at the mention of his name and scowled at the three adults standing by the front door of the house. Though they now lowered their voices to harsh whispers, Himoru could still hear their words as clearly as if they had been speaking directly to him.

"The child is possessed," Kiko, Ryuji's wife, whispered fervently, wringing her hands. "Things happened to him, odd things! He's nocturnal and when we visited the shrine on New Year's Day, every fortune he touched began to glow!"

Himoru scowled. Kiko had never liked him, and he had never liked Kiko. Even at his young age of four, he knew how the woman felt about him.

"He's a demon child," Ryuji agreed, grasping his wife's shoulders.

Demon child?

Growling in the back of his throat, Himoru clenched his hands into fists. He knew demons were bad things, and he knew that he wasn't normal, and he knew that someday his real father would show him how to use all of these powers he had. He just had to wait. Himoru didn't want to wait. He wanted Kiko and Ryuji to _pay_. Nobody said bad things about Himoru and got away with it! _Nobody_!

Brilliant white light sprang up in his vision and Himoru saw nothing more. 


	3. Family

**Chapter Three**  
Family

_**Mysterious Deaths of Three**_

Early Saturday morning, the bodies of Kiko and Ryuji Hayabara as well as Jumi Sawaguchi were discovered upon the Hayabara property. Kiko, 27, and Ryuji, 33, were a loving couple, according to nearby sources. Sawaguchi was a social worker at a local child welfare office. The Hayabara couple were working with Sawaguchi to arrange the adoption of a small child.

The orphan boy, Himoru, 4, has been missing since the deaths of the social worker and his adoptive parents. He is approximately three feet, six inches tall, with blond hair and a distinctive lock of green hair. His eyes are purple, and he carries upon him many blue, apostrophe-shaped birthmarks. If you or any others have information on the whereabouts of the missing boy, please contact the Metro Police Department.

The bodies of Kiko and Ryuji Hayabara as well as Jumi Sawaguchi appear to have strange burn marks on their foreheads and their jaws, along with what appears to be sunburns on all other visible skin. Aside from these markings, the bodies are untouched and no sign of struggle was discovered. If you have any information on the deaths of these three citizens, please contact the Okayama Police Department.

Yaegashi folded the newspaper in half to isolate the article, rereading it again. Many blue birthmarks? If he didn't know better, he would say that those birthmarks were Aragami mitama. It was impossible, he told himself, focusing in on the description of the missing boy, but his mind still wandered. Instinct instructed him to check the TAC newspaper compilation for any articles describing a similar boy.

Quickly, Yaegashi brought up the program he had designed and checked the pertinent specifications, searching for the name Himoru. It was not a common name, the bespectacled scientist mused, so he was not expecting an overly abundant amount of matches.

_String: Himoru  
Qualifiers: Japanese newspapers  
Matches (most recent to least recent):  
...:...Mysterious Deaths of Three  
...:...Abandoned Baby at Hiroshima Metro Hospital_

Yaegashi hastily read the second article, dated a little more than four years ago, and nodded to his computer. Himoru had been abandoned at the Hiroshima Metro Hospital; his mother disappeared the night of his birth and left only a note naming the child. Apparently Himoru's mother was a famous idol singer, her career having been put on hold to have the baby. The article also mentioned a single, strange, apostrophe-shaped birthmark on the boy's chest, along with two more raised, bluish markings. The hospital had waited for the mother's return for two months before handing the child over to the Hiroshima child welfare office, or so Yaegashi believed from the article's declaration.

That baby was at least half Aragami, he realized, worriedly. He leaned back from his desk and peered around the wall of his cubicle, picking up the telephone and dialing the TAC. The TAC served as a human research center now, keeping an underlying facility of weapons research should the Aragami reawaken. As far as he knew, Kusanagi, the only Aragami still awake--until this child--had stopped cooperating with the TAC and disappeared shortly after Momiji's wedding to Sugishita. Yaegashi still got chills from thinking about that pairing.

"Mr. Kunikida," Yaegashi said quietly when the boss of the TAC answered the phone. "Have you read the article in the paper this morning about Kiko and Ryuji Hayabara and Jumi Sawaguchi?"

"I have," Daitetsu answered carefully. In fact, he was staring at the article right now.

"Do you have any suspicions about this Himoru child?" he asked, reading the description of the child again and again.

Daitetsu was silent for a moment, also rereading the description of the child. "I hesitate to make any assumptions, but my gut tells me this child is Aragami."

"May I make a suggestion, sir?" Yaegashi wanted to know, quickly compiling some notes over what he had learned about Himoru.

"You may," Daitetsu allowed, listening to the dull clicking of the keyboard on the other side of the line.

"You have already issued the order for Himoru to be found, I am sure," Yaegashi began, pausing for a moment in his typing. "But, if he is Aragami, I would suggest locating Sakura or bringing Momiji in. Unless he's half human, which I think might be the case. If not, we have not just Kusanagi and Himoru awake as active Aragami, but at least two others. The father and mother of Himoru, or at least one of those."

A suspicion began to worry at Daitetsu's stomach concerning the parentage of Himoru, but he refused to voice it. "Momiji is in the middle of a divorce with Sugishita. She's moving with Kasahiko back to Izumo from Tokyo."

"And Sakura?" Yaegashi pressed.

"No one has heard from her in three years. The last anyone knew of her, she had gone back to America and the CIA." Maybe it was Yaegashi's imagination, but did Daitetsu's voice hold a note of bitterness to it?

"Can you persuade Momiji to stop by Okayama before going back to Izumo?" Yaegashi asked, worried. They could have a very bad problem on their hands if they had Kusanagi, Himoru, and two other Aragami roaming Japan.

Daitetsu didn't answer.

"Mr. Kunikida?"

Silence.

"Mr. Kunikida? Mr. Kunikida! Are you still there? Hello? Hello!"

Daitetsu hung up the telephone, Yaegashi's words dying in his ears. A child named Himoru was wandering Japan at the tender age of four with Aragami souls. The only Aragami the TAC had known of until this morning who still walked Japan was Kusanagi, and he hadn't been seen since the day after Momiji's wedding. Even stranger, Sakura had not been seen nor heard from for about three years. No, that wasn't right.

Frowning, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out Sakura's file. The last time anyone from the TAC had seen her in person was two weeks after Momiji's wedding, when she came to talk to Matsudaira about something. All the file said regarding that particular visit was, _Contact Matsu for more information._

Things were starting to get very weird indeed.

()()()

"Sakura's records, sir?" Matsudaira asked dubiously over the intercom. She sat at her computer and pulled up the information she had recorded about Sakura. "I don't have much, but I can send it all up to you."

"Please do that, Matsudaira," Daitetsu answered.

"I'll send Rachika up with the records in a moment," she agreed and cut the link. Rachika Suzuhara looked up from her current project and blinked cluelessly at Matsudaira. "Rachika," Matsudaira said as she walked over to the paper copies of all the TAC former and present employees, "I want you to deliver this up to Mr. Kunikida. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am," Rachika said brightly. "Deliver them straight to Mr. Kunizaka."

"Kunikida."

"That's what I said! Zapakida."

Matsudaira hated working with Rachika, but she was Daitetsu's niece. "Kunikida. Your uncle."

"I thought you said to take them to Mr. Junihaka, not my uncle!"

Clutching the manila folder tightly, Matsudaira shook her head. That last one wasn't even close to what Matsudaira had said. Honestly, didn't the intelligence gene at least peek out a little bit on Daitetsu's sister's side! "Never mind. Stay here. Read this." She tossed the girl a volume of manga. "Read it carefully."

Rachika squealed and sat back down as Matsudaira made her way over to the elevator, carefully refraining from punching something on the walk there. Once inside the sliding doors, she allowed herself a frustrated growl and eye twitch, but that was all.

When Matsudaira reached Kunikida's floor, she marched into his office and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "Mr. Kunikida," she said tersely, her nails almost breaking the paper of the folder, "I don't know how much longer I can stand Rachika being my lab assistant."

"What's wrong with her? She majored in biochemical engineering," Daitetsu replied, baffled. "I honestly thought she would be an excellent addition to your laboratory."

With a start, Matsudaira realized that she must have been duped. Dropping the folder on Daitetsu's desk, she sighed. "Nothing, Mr. Kunikida, nothing. Why did you want Sakura's files?"

"I can't seem to recall why she came to this building last and why she hasn't returned, so I thought I would follow the note on my file. While I read through this, please feel free to read this article." Daitetsu pushed the newspaper towards his leading scientist and read through the results of Matsudaira's last encounter with Sakura.

_Appears to have weakened spiritual powers, unknown cause. Half strength at best, as much as one fifth strength at least. No unusual experience as of late, no attacks upon her. Appears less able to detect things as she normally would, takes longer to charge talismans (na 2s, p 5-7s). Shikigami animated images at most._

Frowning, Daitetsu flipped through the remaining three sheets which contained only data from the three times Sakura had allowed Matsudaira to study her. "Did you ever figure out why Sakura's powers had decreased so much?"

Shaking her head, she gave a soft chuckle. "No, I think that might be why she went back to America. She had her powers trained in part there and most likely have better records than anything I could have hoped to have had. Though, come to think of it..." the scientist trailed off. "She told me that she would be giving up her idol singer career until she got her powers back into her control." Doing her best Sakura immitation, Matsudaira continued, "'I am a faith healer with a 100 termination rate before I am famous!'"

Daitetsu cracked a small smile at that. "Matsudaira, I would like you to work on finding Sakura in America. I would like to ask her some questions." He nodded and pushed the manila folder towards the doctor. "Thank you."

"Anytime, boss..." Matsudaira replied, picking up the folder and standing, walking towards the door. When she reached it, she turned and looked over her shoulder. "Do you think Sakura could help in finding the Aragami, or are you thinking that she might have a more...personal role in the boy's life?"

All Daitetsu did was smile.

()()()

_I don't need them. I don't need anyone!_ Himoru thought fiercely, running through the forest. Over the past few days, the mitamas on his hands had developed further, taking on the apostrophe shape he had come to associate with them. What were they? What did they do? Why did he have them?

Frowning, Himoru stopped, hearing something move up above. In his mitama, he felt a strange tingling sensation, something he had never experienced before, and he began to rub at them agitatedly. The tingling intensified into a burning, and he couldn't help it. The young boy threw back his head and screamed, blacking out moments later.

When Himoru came to, he was settled into a sterile white cot, covered with a soft white blanket. Attached to his forehead was an electrode, and in between his mitama were other electrodes. What was happening to him? Why did all of this seem to be happening at once?

"Ah, you're awake!" said a tall woman with her hair tied behind her head in a loose bun. "My name is Ms. Matsudaira, and you are Himoru, are you not?"

Himoru just stare at her.

"Of course you are afraid," Matsudaira continued. "Let me take off these electrodes, they're probably scary, aren't they?"

Himoru crinkled his face up, watching her move towards him.

"You are at a building of a team called the TAC," she explained patiently, removing the electrodes as easily as possible. "Have you ever wondered what these blue things are on you?"

Interested, Himoru sat up and touched the ones on his thighs.

"They're called 'mitamas,'" she told him softly. "They're Aragami souls, more or less. Do you know what an Aragami is?"

Himoru shook his head, looking down at his souls.

"It is a species of sentient being that exists on our planet, controlled by the blood of the Princess Kushinada, but their biological composition is that of a plant."

"...Was that Japanese?" Himoru asked, his boyish voice hoarse from lack of use over the past three days.

"Basically, you're part plant-person," Matsudaira said with a smile.

The little boy shifted and looked up into Matsudaira's kind eyes. "My name is Himoru."

Nodding to him, Matsudaira wrapped up the electrodes and pushed a series of buttons on the computer not too far away. "You have been giving Japan quite a fright, you know that? People have been searching for ever since the Hayabaras died."

Himoru perked up. "They died?"

"Yes," Matsudaira said quietly, opening the compilation of newspaper articles and bringing it up. She read the article aloud to him and turned back to him. "Himoru, do you know what happened to the social worker and your parents?"

"They weren't my mom and dad!" Himoru yelled, standing up on the bed in the blink of an eye.

Matsudaira seemed unphased. "Do you know what happened to Kiko, Ryuji, and Ms. Sawaguchi?"

Suddenly quiet, Himoru stared down at the backs of his hands and carefully traced one of the mitamas. "No, I don't."

"We called the foster care agency Ms. Sawaguchi worked at," Matsudaira told him. "They told us that Ms. Sawaguchi was there to take you away from Kiko and Ryuji."

Himoru took his attention from his mitamas to look up at Matsudaira. "Kiko was mean to me. A lot." His violet eyes shone with earnest contempt for the Japanese woman. "She only got what she did to me. I wish I could say thank you to whatever killed them." He sat back down on the cot and swung his feet, hands on his thighs. "How did I get here?"

"Someone we haven't seen in a very long time brought you here," she replied. "He's Aragami, like you, and he might still be here."

()()()

Kusanagi prowled the roof of the TAC building restlessly. His mitamas still buzzed against his skin, the tugging sensation of another Aragami almost unbearable. He had never felt the pull of another Aragami's energy so strongly from a whole building away and he hated it.

"Kusanagi."

Slowly, he pivoted on his foot and looked at the TAC member behind him. "Kome."

"Why are you here?"

"I should be asking you the same thing."

"Ha. I work here. What's your excuse?"

"You work on the roof?"

"Bastard! Who the hell do you think you are, breaking Momiji's heart and completely disappearing for four years, then suddenly showing up like this!"

"Don't tell me you don't feel it, too, Kome." Kusanagi turned away from her and tipped his face up towards the clouds. "The danger hanging in the air. Something big is coming, and coming fast."

Staring at him, Kome shook her head. "You're such an adrenaline junkie..."

"Don't throw stones, Kome, especially when I can just throw the same stone back at you." With that, Kusanagi stepped up on the railing and disappeared from sight.

"You don't scare me!" Kome shouted after him. "Come back here and talk like a man, you lousy half-monster!"

But he was gone. 


	4. Mother

**Chapter Four**  
Mother

Kasahiko Sugishita had plastered herself against the train window under Momiji's watchful eye, giggling and watching the Japanese countryside as they sped through it. Though her height placed her at a definite toddler age, her speech and demeanor often had strangers guessing she was older. Momiji loved the child with all of her heart, more than she had ever loved Shunichi or Kusanagi. The thought of Kusanagi formed a pit in her stomach, weighing heavily there.

"Mama," Kasahiko said, turning her body to look at her mother. "Are we going to see Nana?"

Momiji smiled and caressed Kasahiko's hair and face. "We're going to be living with Nana very soon, Kasahiko."

The little girl brightened. "Living with Nana?"

As Momiji nodded, Kasahiko wobbled to her mother and crawled up on her lap. Momiji kissed her daughter's forehead and embraced her tightly. Even though she was half Shunichi, Kasahiko was the single shining point of her life. The day she was born topped even the day Momiji sacrificed herself to save Japan, and that had been an amazing and wonderful experience. Nothing had given her as much joy as to have a living piece of herself running around; a piece of herself that often looked more like her sister, Kaede, who was the true Princess Kushinada as far as Momiji was concerned.

The pair fell asleep in their seats, soothed by the constant hum of the train over the tracks.

Momiji woke when she felt Kasahiko stirring against her. "Mama," Kasahiko tried to whisper, "I think we're at Nana's house."

"We're in Izumo, sweetheart," Momiji corrected gently, recognizing the familiar little city. "Mama grew up here."

The small child wriggled about and bounced on her toes as she clung to the window, hardly able to contain her excitement. "Nana! Nana! Nana Nana!" she cried happily, full of energy.

By the time the train came to a stop, Kasahiko had calmed enough to let Momiji carry her onto the platform where her mother and grandmother were waiting. "Mom, Grandmother," she said softly, not wanting to get Kasahiko wound up again. Behind her, she dragged a rolling suitcase containing all of Kasahiko's things and a spare set of Momiji's clothing, just in case something had happened.

"Momiji!" called her mother.

A wave of joy, followed closely by relief and even closer by a breathtaking sadness swept over the brunette as she hurried to her mother. "Nana! Nana Nana Nana!" Kasahiko responded, suddenly bouncing and wiggling at Momiji's hip in anticipation of seeing her grandmother and great-grandmother.

Tearful greetings and protective, grasping hugs were exchanged all around as the four Fujimiyas were reunited. Momiji's mother took hold of the wriggling two-year-old as they retrieved the last of their things and piled into the family car. The trip back to the Fujimiya shrine was boisterous, full of laughter as the sadness creeping at the edges of Momiji's heart began to retreat.

Several hours later, long after night had nestled around the shrine and the evening rituals had been completed, Momiji found herself sitting in the backyard, alone. She had already laid Kasahiko down for the night and her elderly grandmother had turned in not too long afterwards. Her mother and she were the only ones awake.

Fireflies blinked to life around her, dancing and weaving through the stagnant summer air. The cicadas had ceased their droning buzz just after sunset, lulled to silence by the rising moon. Momiji smiled sadly, reminiscing about simpler times before she knew she had a twin sister, before she had met that copper-toned man with his deep emerald hair and feline eyes.

Her mother's voice shook her out of her reverie. "How has it been, Momiji?" she asked, sitting next to her daughter as they watched the drifting fireflies. "The last time you were home was two years ago, wasn't it?"

Leaning against her mother, Momiji gave a soft sigh. "The last time I came to see you and Grandmother was just after Kasahiko was born. Shun couldn't come with us." She tucked her hair behind her ear and hugged her knees to her chest. "Mom, I did love Shun. After all, he gave me Kasahiko...but sometimes, sometimes I wish she was Mamoru's." Her mother remained silent, slowly finger-brushing her daughter's hair as she listened. "Mamoru Kusanagi..." she murmured, her hand drifting subconsciously to the locket dangling around her neck. The locket had been her secret for the last five years, holding two pictures--Kasahiko on her most recent birthday, and the last picture she and Kusanagi had taken together. She had a larger version of it framed in her suitcase. "I miss him, Mom."

Mrs. Fujimiya began to twist Momiji's silky tresses into a braid, her once-deft fingers a comforting presence. "Shunichi or Kusanagi?" she asked softly.

Tears pooled in her green eyes, shining like liquid emeralds. "Mamoru," she whispered fiercely, trying desperately to keep her emotions in check. As much as she wanted to cry, she knew it wouldn't help anything. On the surface, it looked like she wanted to cry for her beloved Kusanagi, but she wanted to cry for so many reasons; for her daughter losing her father, for the loss of her husband, for Sugishita's broken heart, and for the lost time with Kusanagi. "I wish I could see him one more time, Mom."

"You might get your wish," Mrs. Fujimiya murmured in her daughter's ear, tying off the braid and patting Momiji's shoulder. Momiji frowned and looked to her mother who simply pointed to the shadows in the yard. Squinting, Momiji could barely discern the outline of a person standing in the distance.

With a knowing smile, Mrs. Fujimiya rose to her feet and let herself inside the living space of the shrine. For a few moments longer, Momiji remained sitting, steeling her nerves for a potential conversation. She would recognize Kusanagi's body anywhere, especially shrouded in the darkness as it was. Standing, she bit her lip and was trying to decide on the best approach when the figure vanished.

"Ma--Kusanagi!" she cried, reaching for him as though that would make him reappear.

He materialized a few feet away from her, clad only in a pair of black cargo pants and a pair of boots. His hair had grown out and was now tied behind his head in a ponytail, and he had a set of sunglasses clipped to his belt. "I'm Kusanagi now?" he asked her, looking away from her.

The moment he appeared, her body froze in place. She had so many things she wanted to say to him and so many things she wanted to let him know. She wanted to scream at him and wanted to grasp him and never let him go. Her heart pounded in chest so hard that she knew he could hear it.

"Does that mean I have to call you Fujimiya now?" he pressed.

She still couldn't believe he was here in front of her. All of the feelings she had had for him as a teenager flooded through her, magnified by the years she had spent without him, laced with anger and disappointment. "Mamo...ru..."

At last, he raised his eyes to look at her, drinking her in, backlit by the soft glow from the house behind her. Gazing into those glittering viridescent eyes, it took his breath away. What locks hadn't been captured in the braid tumbling down her spine hung in wispy strands that framed her pale face. When he wasn't looking, she had matured from the lanky, spontaneous teenager into the beautiful mother standing before him.

"Momiji..." he whispered, transfixed. He could hear her heart hammering in her chest.

"Mama!" called a voice from within the house.

That jolted Momiji out of her shock. "Coming, Kasahiko!" she yelled back, taking a few backwards steps towards the door. "I...my daughter...will you come inside?"

"I can't," Kusanagi answered immediately. "I came to tell you that you need to go back to Tokyo. The TAC...they need you."

Momiji struggled to keep the confusion from her face. "I just left Tokyo. If they need me, they'll call me, okay? They wouldn't...you wouldn't be an errand runner for the TAC."

"Mama!" called Kasahiko again.

"I have to go," Momiji whispered, reaching to slide open the door.

In an instant, he had her turned and facing him. His eyes searched her face, looking for something in her coutenance. He must have found it, because he lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss--only to have her duck out from under him and back into the house.

"I have to go," she repeated, sliding the door closed.

For a fleeting moment, she saw raw hurt pass through his eyes and he disappeared.

()()()

The next morning found Yaegashi, Matsudaira, and Kome sitting in the basement of the former TAC building, pouring over old files. "What, exactly, are we looking for again, Matsu?" Kome asked, stretching her arms above her head and leaning back in her chair. She planted her combat boots on Matsudaira's desk and tipped the chair back so it balanced on the rear two legs.

Without even looking, Matsudaira pushed Kome's feet off of the desk and sat a stack of manila folders in the vacant spot. "Anything that could give us a hint where Sakura went," she replied. "These are all of the files I collected when the threat of the Aragami was at its height."

"Why can't your assistant help?" Kome wanted to know, pushing the corner of the stack idly.

Matsudaira stopped what she was doing and sat up straight. "My assistant?"

Pointing, Kome said, "Yeah. That girl over there."

Having kept his thoughts to himself up until then, Yaegashi couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled up and out of him. "Matsu, you forgot that you had an assistant?"

The brilliant scientist shot Yaegashi a look that clearly expressed her own annoyance at herself. "What's her name?" Matsudaira murmured to herself, tapping her nails against the folder she had placed on the desk. "Ah! Rachika!"

Surprised, Daitetsu's niece looked up from her magazine and raised an eyebrow at Matsudaira. "Yes?"

"Come here! I need you to assist me," Matsudaira ordered, pointing to the chair sitting in front of the desk. "Start on the files sitting in the chair," she instructed as Rachika made her way over. "We're looking for mentions of Sakura Yamazaki, or anything that might lead us to Sakura Yamazaki. Understood?"

Rachika opened her mouth to say something to get her out of research, but her boss looked frazzled and overworked. "Yes, Dr. Matsu."

They worked in silence for a while longer with Kome dawdling as much as she could. Matsudaira had formed her own opinion of what had happened to Sakura and why she had disappeared, and she also had some theories about the young boy who was living with Daitetsu and Ryoko.

The last time anyone had seen Sakura Yamazaki was Momiji's wedding four years ago, including all of Japan. Their beloved idol, Sakura Blossom, had seemingly disappeared from the face of the Earth. The records Matsudaira had had Yaegashi hack into at the hospital had a copy of the note left with Himoru, which proclaimed him the abandoned son of an idol. Although it was farfetched, Matsudaira just couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps the child belonged to Sakura.

If Sakura was, indeed, Himoru's mother, then that led to the problem of finding the father of Sakura's son. Given the Aragami history, only one still roamed the world unrestrained, and that was Mamoru Kusanagi. The thought of Sakura and Kusanagi together made Matsudaira ill, but it would certainly explain a lot of things.

"Hey, Matsu," Kome said.

"Hm?" Matsudaira turned her attention partially to Kome.

"I think I know where Sakura went," Kome continued. "I have to say though, there's one thing that's buggin' me. Why are we looking for this priestess chick?"

"She may have some vital information about Himoru," Matsudaira said mindlessly. "If not, we can always ask her to help him get his abilities under control. He may have killed three people already, maybe more. That's something we can't allow to continue if we can prevent it, obviously." She finally stopped and looked up. "You know where Sakura is?"

Kome looked to her husband of two years, Yaegashi, silently asking him for advice. The two of them had stayed in partial contact with Sakura over the years, much to their surprise. Sakura had explained to them, once, that they would be the least likely out of the entire TAC for her to keep in touch with and, therefore, would be most advantageous to her. A beat passed and Yaegashi gave a small nod.

"She's in...Izumo."

"_Izumo_?" Matsudaira repeated incredulously. "What in the name of everything is she doing in _Izumo_?"

It was then that Yaegashi spoke, relaying the entire bizarre story to his long-time friend and coworker. "After she came back from America, she decided that she would be better off studying at a true Shinto shrine. She said nothing would be better than studying where Momiji was trained, no matter how many times we tried to tell her that the Fujimiyas weren't mystics like her."

Matsudaira's jaw nearly hit the desk. "I can't believe this. Sakura's been right under our noses this entire time!" She rose from her seat so quickly that her chair fell over behind her, knocking a stack of papers askew. "I have to go tell Daitetsu. Goodness, of all the places!"

The remaining three watched the normally composed doctor rush out of the basement. There was a brief moment of silence before Kome's mouth twitched, hinting at the laughter threatening to spill from her lips. One look at Yaegashi and she lost her composure, collapsing into a fit of giggles. The behavior Matsudaira had just exhibited was so typical of her that it tickled Kome.

"Wow," Rachika commented, watching Yaegashi and Kome laugh. "You two are...really something."

They paused long enough to look at Rachika before they began to laugh again.

()()()

The phone rang in Daitetsu's office just before Matsudaira burst through the door. He motioned to her to wait one moment but take a seat in front of his desk as he took the call. "Daitetsu Kunikida," he said professionally, though a vein of pronounced weariness colored his words.

"Mr. Kunikida! It's Momiji," said the voice on the other side.

"Momiji!" he repeated, visibly brightening. "I didn't expect to hear from you. How are you, my dear?"

"Well..." she started, and he imagined her chewing her lip. "Shunichi and I decided to separate, so Kasahiko and I moved back to Izumo with Mom and Grandmother until I decide what to do." There was a pregnant pause. "There were a couple of surprises when I got here, though."

"Like what?" Daitetsu asked, furrowing his brow in apprehension.

"This morning, Sakura Yamazaki showed up on our doorstep. According to Mom and Grandmother, she's been living here and helping out as a shrine maiden. She hasn't changed at all in the last few years," Momiji told him. "And...last night...I saw Kusanagi."

"Sakura? Kusanagi?" Daitetsu echoed with a tone of disbelief. Matsudaira sat herself across from Daitetsu and nodded a confirmation to herself.

"He told me that I'm needed back in Tokyo, that the TAC needs me," she said softly. "Is that true? Am I needed in Tokyo?"

"If you could bring Sakura with you, that would be great," Daitetsu told the younger woman.

He heard Momiji sigh. "I'll be on the earliest train tomorrow, if I can get Sakura to come with me. Is this something to do with the Aragami?"

"Something like that. Take care, Momiji. Give Kasahiko a kiss for me." Having said goodbye, Daitetsu hung up his phone and turned his attention to Matsudaira. "What do you have for me, Matsu?"

"I was just about to tell you that I know where Sakura is," Matsudaira said with a laugh. "But I guess Momiji beat me to it."

Daitetsu's mouth curved into a smile. "She and Sakura, God willing, will be here tomorrow."


	5. Reunion

**Chapter Five**  
Reunion

"Kasahiko, I'll be back as soon as possible," Momiji told her daughter, giving her a kiss on the forehead. The little girl would spend the day with Mrs. Fujimiya and Momiji's grandmother; Momiji hoped it would only be one day but her gut told her it would likely take a lot longer. TAC work never seemed simple.

For some reason, Daitetsu had requested that Momiji bring Sakura along with her, and hinted that it had something to do with the Aragami. Part of her wished that she still had the blue mitama that marked the Aragami, so she would have some idea of the activity of the plant beings. With a grimace, she looked out the back door towards the cave where she had trained as a young girl, and where Sakura was meditating. She hadn't yet brought up the idea of traveling to Tokyo to the priestess and didn't have high hopes of talking her into going.

Momiji nudged Kasahiko towards Mrs. Fujimiya, gave them both one last kiss, and set her overnight bag outside the door. Steeling herself, Momiji took the familiar walk to the cave, pausing at the opening. She could see Sakura from her vantage point and was wondering what to say when the former pop idol spoke.

"I can feel you standing there, Sacrifice Girl," Sakura's voice echoed from the walls of the cavern.

Resigned, Momiji carefully made her way into the cave, mindful of her sandals. They were one of her favorite pair, a pastel pink pair of flats with a white flower across the toes. She wore a white skirt that hung to her knees, hemmed with matching pink embroidery, and a sleeveless white blouse with a pink collar and pink buttons. She had a pink handbag to go with it, but it was in her overnight bag. She also had a white sun hat with a pink ribbon wrapped around it, but she planned to leave that at the shrine. "Are you busy?"

The faith healer stood in the ankle-deep water and looked up to Momiji. "As a matter of fact, yes. What do you want?"

"Is that my yukata?" Momiji asked, peering at Sakura, clad in the traditional white top and red bottom. Sakura raised an eyebrow and pulled her glasses down her nose to peer over the top. "Right, that's not important. Listen...I was talking with Mr. Kunikida and--"

"Absolutely not," Sakura interrupted her. "I won't go back to the TAC; not now, not ever. I never wanted to be there in the first place. Scamper off, Sacrifice Girl."

Momiji edged closer to the edge of the water, staying just far enough away that she wouldn't feel the water. "He asked for you specifically, Sakura. Please? It'll just be for a day."

Rolling her eyes, Sakura waded closer to Momiji. "Why?"

"I didn't ask," Momiji admitted, folding her hands behind her back and giving a hopeful smile to Sakura. "We could call before we get on the train?"

"There are duties I need to see to here," Sakura told her. "Just for one day?"

"One day," Momiji confirmed, crossing her fingers behind her back and hoping that Sakura couldn't sense that.

"That's all I'm staying," Sakura told her. "One day, then I'm coming back here."

"Thank you!" Momiji said brightly and flounced out of the cavern.

Sakura rubbed her temples and muttered to herself, "The things I do for these people."

()()()

The compartment Sakura had chosen for her and Momiji was at the rear of the train, the least crowded. Sakura was reluctant to go to Tokyo, to say the least. She had changed into a slinky, shiny red dress with a pair of matching red pumps and some gold bangle bracelets. Her hips had widened some, which she hid behind some gold chain belts, and at the moment she sat across from Momiji with her arms folded across her ample chest.

"So, what happened with you and the pervert?" Sakura asked, watching Momiji intently.

Momiji gripped her skirt at her knees and stiffened. "The pervert?"

"Sugishita," Sakura clarified, leaning forward.

"We decided to separate," the Kushinada said. Her hand went to the locket around her neck.

Pretending not to notice, Sakura continued with her questions. "Why? Did you find him boinking another woman?"

The brunette frowned, hurt. "Not at all. Shun loved me, and I loved him."

"So what's the deal, then, Sacrifice Girl? Still hung up on Kusanagi then?" Sakura quipped. The look on Momiji's face was enough to confirm her suspicions. A smirk curved her lips and she laughed, pleased with herself for getting under Momiji's skin. "That's it, isn't it? You still love the plant boy."

"I would rather not talk about it," Momiji said softly.

"The brat," Sakura pressed, "is she the pervert's or the plant boy's?"

"Sakura," Momiji pleaded.

"She looks like the pervert," Sakura continued.

Momiji was silent.

"Plant boy was at your wedding, you know," Sakura told her. She watched the Kushinada freeze and smirked again. "He was there, but he didn't want to talk to you. You know who he talked to instead?" Sakura leaned over and caught Momiji's eyes. "It was me, Sacrifice Girl. And afterwards, he came to my hotel room--"

Momiji sped out of the train compartment, leaving Sakura alone. Sometimes the blond faith healer felt bad about giving Momiji a hard time, but she just couldn't help it. The woman had everything that Sakura had ever wanted—a protective bodyguard who loved her and still watched over her, or so she assumed, the love and adoration of multitudes of people with little or no effort, and she was a public figure. Sakura had achieved some of that, but most of all, she wanted a devoted boyfriend. Instead, she had...well, it was best to forget that. She spent every day of her life trying to forget that.

She must have fallen asleep because she jerked awake when the train stopped at the Tokyo station. With a grimace, she got to her feet and pulled her overnight bag from the luggage rack and slipped into her coat. It was long, reaching to her ankles, and a cream color and lined with faux fur at the hems. Sunglasses completed the outfit and she let down her hair, making her virtually unrecognizable. She peeked out of the train compartment and found Momiji standing near the door to the next car.

"Sacrifice Girl," Sakura hissed. "Aren't you going to disguise yourself?"

"It doesn't help," Momiji answered stiffly. "I get recognized regardless of my outfit, so it's easier just to get the attention and get it over with. Mr. Kunikida said there would be a car waiting to take us to the TAC building once we get out of the station." The woman refused to look at the faith healer. Over the years, she had slowly begun to forget why she detested Sakura so very much, and a half hour in a train compartment with her had reminded her in no time.

Finally, the pair were let out of the train and instantly mobbed by flashing cameras and excited people.

"Momiji! Momiji, we hear that you moved back to your hometown yesterday—what brings you back to Tokyo so quickly?"

"Momiji! Who are you bringing with you today?"

"Momiji! Momiji, over here! Where's your daughter? She's usually never far from you!"

Sakura grabbed Momiji's arm and began to drag her through the crowd, yelling out in English, "Excuse me! Coming through! The Princess Kushinada will not be answering questions today! She is here on important personal business!"

"What kind of personal business?" yelled back one of the reporters in English.

"The kind that is none of the press' business," Sakura answered. "Please let us through!" she shouted in Japanese. "I won't ask again!"

Suddenly, one of the reporters recognized Sakura. "Sakura! Sakura Blossom! Where have you been these last four years?"

"Shit," Sakura swore. "I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about! I'm not Sakura Blossom. My name is Aiko Kazaki. I'm Momiji's personal assistant. Let us through!"

Finally, they made it to the car and Sakura shoved Momiji in, squeezing into the car and locking the door. The driver simply stared at them in the rear-view mirror and finally, Sakura dipped her sunglasses down and raised an eyebrow. "Well? Let's go."

"Why did you do that?" Momiji asked as the car went into motion.

Sakura would die before she would admit that she felt bad for what she had said to Momiji, so instead she told her, "I want to get this damn errand over and done with. I wasn't about to wait for you to field fan questions."

Momiji sighed.

()()()

When they arrived at the TAC building, they were able to sneak in without press attention. As they rode the elevator up to Daitetsu's office, neither of them spoke. Sakura was silently telling herself what a stupid idea it had been to agree to go to Tokyo because the TAC never made things simple. She wasn't stupid, either. She read the newspaper. She had heard the news reports. She had a feeling that the TAC had found the Aragami child and wanted her to help with him.

Sakura Yamazaki, the famous Sakura Blossom, was nobody's babysitter.

The elevator _ping_ed and the doors slid open to reveal a spacious office area. Cubicles lined the walls on either side of the bank of elevators, providing everyone with a window view of downtown Tokyo. A single desk with a computer manned by a neatly dressed male secretary sat in the center of the floor. Recessed lighting illuminated the entire floor, giving the illusion that the space was actually much larger than it was.

"Wow," Momiji whispered to herself. It had been quite some time since she had visited the old TAC building.

The secretary, whose desk proclaimed him as Koji Suzuhara, stood and looked to both of them with a smile. "Miss Yamazaki, Miss Fujimiya, I presume?"

The women nodded.

"Mr. Kunikida is expecting you. Let me let him know you're here," Koji said pleasantly and took a moment to buzz Daitetsu on the intercom. When he was finished, Koji beckoned Sakura and Momiji to follow him and opened the door to Daitetsu's office at the rear of the floor. "Have a good day, Miss Fujimiya, Miss Yamazaki."

And then he closed the door behind the two women and was gone.

"Mr. Kunikida!" cried Momiji, rushing to the older man and hugging him tightly. The two, reduced to tears of happiness, clung to each other enough to make Sakura sick. As it was, the priestess leaned against the wall and had a half a mind to head back to the train station.

"Sakura," Daitetsu said with a smile, once Momiji had unwrapped herself from him. "It's been four years, hasn't it?"

She rolled her eyes, not bothering to even remove her disguise. "I don't care how long it's been."

Daitetsu and Momiji exchanged expressions that clearly conveyed that Sakura hadn't changed a bit in the years since the Aragami takedown.

"I have someone that I want you two to meet," Daitetsu said at last. He turned and went behind an old dressing screen, emerging with a young boy decorated with blue Aragami souls. "Momiji, Sakura, this is Himoru. Himoru, this is Momiji, the Princess Kushinada, and Sakura, a faith healer we often draw upon for help."

Himoru's looked up at Momiji, who had clapped her hand over her mouth. He sensed her apprehension and turned his gaze Sakura, who was giving him the cold shoulder. Taking a step back, he hid behind Daitetsu's leg and made for the screen, but the older man grabbed the back of his shirt and turned him towards Momiji. "This is the Princess Kushinada," he told Himoru again.

Momiji shook her head. "My twin sister is the Princess," she corrected. "Hi, sweetheart," she said at last. She held her hand out for him to shake until he tentatively gripped it. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Mr. Kunikida said your name is Himoru. Do you have a last name?"

The little boy kept looking to Sakura. "No last name," he said, staring at the blond woman.

"Sakura," Momiji said. "Why don't you come over here and say hello to Himoru?"

"I'm not a babysitter. If he's why you called me here, Kunikida, I'm going back to Izumo," she replied without even turning around. Her senses were tingling from the proximity of the Aragami boy, and she could feel Kusanagi on the rooftop. His mitama were resonating loudly enough that she guessed if she was standing next to him, she could hear it.

Momiji had picked up the boy, settling him on her hip as she would Kasahiko, and carried him over to Sakura. "Sakura, say hello to Himoru. He's very sweet."

With an inward growl of frustration, Sakura removed her sunglasses and looked directly at the boy sitting on Momiji's hip. The child's hair was the same color as hers. His eyes were the same color. He was what she had wanted to forget, and now he was here. Staring her in the face. Her past had come to haunt her and she had hoped beyond hope that she would never have to see the wretched thing again. She had left him at the hospital with explicit instructions to find a home for the brat. The TAC building hardly constituted a home.

Yet, she couldn't help the small tug at her heart. She struggled with the guilt. She had been depressed for months afterwards. For what seemed like hours, she commanded herself not to reach out and clutch the four-year-old boy to her, her four-year-old son; in reality, only a few seconds had passed before Sakura snatched Himoru from Momiji and held him to her. He snuggled immediately into her.

"Himoru, Himoru," she whispered softly, over and over again, turning her back to Momiji and Daitetsu. This was overly embarrassing for her in some respects, but mostly her heart was happy to be reunited with the son she'd left behind. "I'm so sorry," she murmured to him. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Sakura?" Momiji asked. She had only seen children cuddle up so closely to their mothers, and her gut told her this little boy belonged to Sakura.

For a long while, Sakura didn't answer Momiji. As much as she never wanted to let the child go, she knew logically that she would make a horrible mother. She only cared about herself—everyone knew that. "What?" she wanted to know.

Himoru had fallen asleep on Sakura, so Momiji asked, "Is...he...is Himoru yours?"

Sakura gripped him tighter. "Yes," she whispered, barely audible. "But I can't keep him." A beat passed and she asked, "Can I have a moment with him, alone?"

"Of course," Daitetsu answered, reaching towards Momiji.

"Stay here," Sakura ordered. "I'll be back. I won't take Himoru." With that, she let herself out of the office and into the elevator. The little boy was still sound asleep on Sakura. She punched the top floor button, intending on taking the child to the rooftop to see Kusanagi.

As the door slid open, she climbed up the stairs to the rooftop and commanded, before she even saw him, "Stay, plant boy."

She found Kusanagi standing on the railing that trimmed the rooftop. He was staring at her, never imaging he would ever see the scene before him. "Why do you have the boy?"

"You really have to ask, Kusanagi?"

He let himself closer to them, peering at the boy and at Sakura. "No, I don't. Why did you bring him up here?"

"To see you," she replied simply. "After all, you should know what your own son looks like."


	6. Responsibility

**A/N: The lyrics to the song Momiji sings to Himoru were adapted from the English translation of Matsuri Uta, which is the song from the Kushinada's melody. So imagine them sung to that melody. So I guess I partially wrote the lyrics, but the credit should really go to Megumi Hayashibara (I think she wrote the original Japanese) and the individual who translated it at .**

Chapter Six  
Responsibility

"To see you," Sakura said simply. "After all, you should know what your own son looks like."

Kusanagi paled and backpedaled from Sakura as fast as he could, dashing to the opposite side of the roof. The woman rolled her eyes and followed the Aragami man to his new position, latching onto his belt loop with her free hand. "My son?" he repeated with a tone of incredulity.

"Are you deaf?" Sakura asked sarcastically. "This is your son. My son. Our son."

A plethora of emotions passed over Kusanagi's face, finally settling on a knowing disbelief. "Ours?"

"Stop repeating everything I say, plant boy," she ordered. He narrowed his eyes at her, but his eyes fell on the blond child asleep on her shoulder. She gently shook him and said, "Himoru, open your eyes. It's time to wake up."

Sleepily, the little boy lifted his head and wiggled a bit. "Let me down," he said.

She placed him on his feet and crouched down to his level. "Himoru, listen. I have a secret to tell you."

Himoru regarded her with skepticism. "What kind of secret?"

"I'm your mom," she told her. His eyes went wide in surprise. "And that," she pointed to Kusanagi, "is your dad."

Unsure, Himoru looked from Sakura to Kusanagi and back, and began to back away. She placed a hand between his shoulders and he said, "My mom and dad?"

"That's right," Sakura told him.

"Are you married?" Himoru asked.

Kusanagi snorted.

Laughing, Sakura shook her head. "No, not at all. And that's why you can't live with me. I'm famous, Himoru. I sing and make music and make people happy. I can't be a good mom for you."

The mitama on his hands began to glow as the anger built up inside of him. Kusanagi watched with interest. He had, of course, found the boy and brought him to the TAC to begin with, but...his son?

"So you're going to stay with people who can take care of you, okay?" she finished, caressing his cheek. She had no idea where the motherly urges were coming from in her, but she knew she couldn't keep the kid. She was still a kid herself in many ways.

Himoru shoved her away from him and ran towards the open door leading to the staircase to the floor below. Hindered by her high heels, Sakura tried to run after him but tripped, finding Kusanagi had picked the child up in interception and deposited him back in front of Sakura. "Let me go!" he screamed, kicking and trying to scratch at Kusanagi.

Helpless, Sakura looked up at Kusanagi, who had no more answers than she did. "Listen, kid," he said. "I know it sucks. My parents ditched me, too."

Himoru bit him.

It took all of Kusanagi's willpower not to backhand the child that had so callously sunk his teeth into him; instead, he had reflexively released the boy, who ran to the railing of the roof. Sakura stumbled after him, kicking off her heels in the process and making a dive for the boy. She missed and Himoru stood on the first rung, laughing at her.

Kusanagi was having a hard time not laughing, too.

Finally, Himoru said, "You're stupid. I don't want someone like _you_ to be my mom." He hopped down from the railing and turned his gaze to Kusanagi. "But you can be my dad."

The former guardian of the Kushinada raised one set of eyebrows at the boy. There was no denying that the kid was his flesh and blood, as he looked just like him in some ways and he could see the beginnings of the arm blades forming on Himoru's body. "No offense, kid, but who says I'd want to be your dad?"

"Mamoru Kusanagi!"

All three of them looked to the new voice. Momiji had heard what Kusanagi said and rushed over to the trio, scooping Himoru up in her arms. "How could you say such a thing to a little boy?" she demanded, the anger she had kept pent up for so long surfacing.

He took a step back, knowing she was furious. "I don't like to lie to kids."

"You just like to lie _with_ them!" she accused, then realized what she said and looked away. She had the decency to blush, knowing that she had just yelled at Kusanagi for sleeping with Sakura. She had no idea how old Sakura was.

"I want you to be my mom," Himoru told Momiji, hugging her tightly.

Scowling, Sakura got to her feet, not caring that she had holes and runs in her stockings, or that her dress was rumpled, or that her coat had gotten dirty in her tumble on the rooftop. What made her angry was the fact that, yet again, Momiji was chosen over her.

"Give me back my son," Sakura demanded.

Uncertain, Momiji just held the boy and looked to Kusanagi, who shrugged. This was getting way too complicated for him, and he had half a mind to bail. It wasn't like he owed anyone anything, except for maybe the kid. He was only a couple years older than Momiji as it was and nowhere near prepared to be a father. Now Sakura had blind-sided him with the news of a little boy that was half his? It was enough to send him running. He was surprised he hadn't already taken his leave.

"I don't think he--" Momiji began to tell Sakura, finding no assistance from Kusanagi.

"He's mine, Sacrifice Girl. Give him back to me," Sakura reiterated. She held out her arms expectantly.

Himoru clung tighter to Momiji and she decided that it would be best to take the boy back to Daitetsu downstairs. "No."

"You've ruined my life, Sacrifice Girl," Sakura accused. "You took my fame, you took my glory, you took my life, and now you're taking my son. Give him to me, _right now_."

"What are you talking about?" Momiji wanted to know, backing slowly towards the door. At least, she hoped she was backing towards the door. She didn't want to take her eyes off the steadily advancing and increasingly maniacal faith healer. "I didn't ruin anything. I didn't take anything from you."

Sakura lunged, but Kusanagi intervened, holding her back. "Didn't anyone ever tell you _anything_? Do you have any idea what I am?!"

Momiji had nearly made it to the door and was feeling behind her for the door handle. "I guess not," she replied.

"Faith healer," Kusanagi warned.

Quickly, she turned her murderous gaze on Kusanagi. "Don't tell me what to do."

"What?" Momiji's voice carried over the roof, her hand on the door and ready to take off down the stairs but wanting to know what the big deal was.

"I had one victory over you, Momiji," Sakura said, straightening up as Kusanagi released her. "_He_ fathered my child. That's right—that's your precious Kusanagi's child that you're holding. My one victory was that I had part of him that you didn't have. And God, if I didn't have him, you sure as hell weren't going to. Neither of you would. But now, now you're going to end up with him anyway and you're _still_ going to get your knight."

Momiji shot a look at Kusanagi, who remained carefully impassive.

"Oh, come off it," Sakura told them. "You're still hot for Sacrifice Girl and you want a dozen plant brats." At last, Sakura seemed to calm down and resume her previous demeanor. "You, Momiji, you and your God damned sister, you screwed everything up. Everything. You destroyed my life."

Having heard enough, Momiji leaned on the door handle and pushed the door open, disappearing down the stairwell.

Frustrated, Sakura marched back to her shoes and slipped them back onto her feet. She hadn't meant to divulge as much as she had to Momiji and Kusanagi, but she couldn't very well take it back. And now she suspected that she would no longer be welcome at the Izumo shrine, so the sooner she went back and collected her things, the sooner she would be able to disappear.

"Yo," Kusanagi said, bringing her back out of her thoughts.

"What do you want?" she snapped, inspecting the damage done to her clothing.

"Don't tell Momiji anything more," he told her. "You'll just make it worse on yourself."

"I'll tell her whatever I want to tell her," Sakura informed him.

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you."

As she looked into those feline eyes, she knew he was serious.

()()()

That evening, Momiji stayed with Daitetsu and Ryoko, who were also sheltering Himoru. Being back in the house she had spent part of her adolescence in brought back a lot of memories, many happy, and many sad. There were still pictures of her sister, Kaede, hung on the walls and propped up on flat surfaces. A new addition since Momiji had been to the Kunikida residence was a picture that hung in her old room.

It was a simple glass frame encased in light wood, big enough to hold two large photos. One was a picture of Momiji in her school uniform, leaning against the tree in the yard and looking up towards the sky; the other one was an almost identical picture of Kaede on the opposite side of the tree, looking skyward. Daitetsu had edited the photos so the tree was only partially visible on one side of it and, placed together, it was almost as if Momiji and Kaede had taken the photo together.

Momiji smiled, though it was melancholy. She knew her sister was in a better place now, as Lord Susano-Oh's wife, but it didn't ease the ache in her heart. All of her life she had longed to have a sister and when she finally found out that she had one, she was taken away in one swift blow. She could tell that Himoru used this room now, judging by the scattered toys on the floor and the movies arranged underneath the television.

"Mom?"

Without thinking, Momiji reacted. "Yes?"

It was Himoru. "What are you doing in here?"

"Remembering," she answered simply. "And I'm not Mom, sweetheart. I'm Momiji."

"You feel like Mom," he told her, running to her and latching onto her leg. A glance at the clock told Momiji that it was getting late and was probably past Himoru's bedtime.

"Maybe," she told him. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for bed?"

"I'm not," he started, but interrupted himself with a yawn, "sleepy."

She scooped him up and set him in the bed, realizing that he had come to her in pajamas. "What if I sing you a song that I wrote for my little girl?"

"Is it a baby song?" Himoru asked, blinking sleepily.

"Not at all," Momiji told him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She cleared her throat and began to sing. "The wind skims the waves, guided gently through; as it drifts away, it takes me with it, too."

Himoru gazed at her, entranced.

"From sky and sea, I hear a melody echoing everywhere, endlessly." She stroked his cheek, longing for her daughter. "Swaying to and fro, gently trembling, it floats to the sky, ringing. Unending in time, it comes and it goes; as worlds are born, so, too, are those. Now, my love, don't cry; love's not a sin...I know we'll meet again."

His eyes were beginning to close.

"Songs forgotten, we'll sing them again; feelings left behind, we'll feel them once again. For now, my love, my eyes are growing dim—so deeply will I sleep, awaiting...for the moment we wake together."

He was out like a light.

Little did she know that just outside Himoru's window was Kusanagi, listening to her lullaby and growling at the memories that melody brought back. He had never been so frightened for someone in his life. At the same time, though, it soothed the monster in him and made him feel human.

He watched Momiji rise from the boy's bed, kiss him on the forehead, and turn out the light as she closed the door. He was at a crossroads. On the one hand, Sakura had virtually blown his cover, that he had watched over Momiji since the day he had broken up with her. On the other, he had a kid to think about now. The logical thing would be to let Momiji take care of Himoru, if she would have him. That way Kusanagi could watch over both of them. That wouldn't work out, though, he realized. Sakura would have to agree to it and she would never admit that Momiji was better at something than her.

He could hear Momiji shuffling about inside the house and followed her through the trees, down to the backyard. He froze as he realized Daitetsu and Ryoko were in the backyard with her.

"I had a very strange conversation with Sakura earlier," Momiji said.

"What about?" Ryoko asked.

Momiji relayed the exchange the two women had had on the roof of the TAC building and ended with, "I don't know what she's talking about, ruining her life. I never did anything to anyone. I mean...all I ever wanted was to be a normal girl."

Alighting on the roof, Kusanagi peered over the edge in time to see Daitetsu and Ryoko exchange glances. He was hoping that they wouldn't spill the beans on the truth behind Momiji's existence, on his own purpose in the world.

"Momiji..." Ryoko began.

Daitetsu placed a hand on his wife's shoulder and shook his head.

"She deserves to know," Ryoko told him. "We've lied to her for long enough."

"What's going on?" Momiji wanted to know. Kusanagi couldn't make out the look on her face, but he could imagine it clearly: she would have furrowed her brow just a little, making her very green eyes look confused, but not too much, and her shoulders would hunch ever so slightly forward. "What are you hiding from me?"

Kusanagi leaped from the top off the house and landed in front of Ryoko, Daitetsu, and Momiji.

Frowning, Momiji stood. "This is getting very weird. Have you been _spying_ on me?"

Wordless, Kusanagi grabbed Momiji's hand, scooped her up, and took flight. "There's some things we need to talk about."


	7. Truth

**A/N: Some of the legends I've taken a bit of creative liberty with, though the details have mostly remained in line with Blue Seed and correct mythology.**

**Chapter Seven  
**Truth

"Put me _down_!" Momiji demanded, struggling in Kusanagi's arms until he set her on her feet underneath a tree in the park where they had once had a picnic. "What's _wrong_ with you?"

Kusanagi sat and patted the ground next to him. "You don't have to sit next to me, but you should probably sit. This is going to take a while."

Uncertain, the Kushinada looked around the silent park and sat where she stood, a foot away from Kusanagi. "Mamoru...what's going on?"

"You aren't actually the Kushinada," he said after a long moment of silence. Momiji frowned deeply and hugged her knees to her chest. "You...are something far more worthwhile. Susano-Oh married the Kushinada in the legends, and Susano-Oh took your sister. Kaede was the Kushinada, which I thought from the beginning. Susano-Oh has a brother and a sister. His sister was Amaterasu, the goddess of the sun; and his brother was Tsukuyomi, the god of the moon.

"In the legends, Susano-Oh defeated Orochi-no-Orochi and got two swords from its tail—the Ame no Murakumo and the Kusanagi. The Ame no Murakumo Susano-Oh kept for himself and he gave the Kusanagi to his sister, Amaterasu."

"The Imperial family is descended from Amaterasu," Momiji said softly.

"You're the reincarnation of Amaterasu," Kusanagi told her. "I know it sounds bizarre, and I didn't quite believe it myself...but you are. The pieces fit. Kaede had Murakumo to protect her and married Susano-Oh. Because of Susano-Oh, I came to you. You've brought light back to this world when Susano-Oh had covered it in darkness."

"What...?" Momiji asked, mystified. "How do you...why did you...why do you..."

"Murakumo," he answered.

"But Murakumo's not..."

Kusanagi shook his head. "You're right. He isn't alive, but Murakumo was the key. He stayed close to Kaede and Susano-Oh, and he and I were equal in strength when we both had eight mitamas."

"What does that have to do with Sakura?" Momiji asked at last.

"Her family...those faith healers...are descendents from Tsukuyomi. In the legends, Tsukuyomi tried to kill his sister, thinking that he was the rightful king of the heavens. So Amaterasu banished Tsukuyomi to the opposite side of the world."

"Is Sakura his reincarnation?"

"Not at all. Her family has always hated Amaterasu and they have waited centuries for her...your...return."

Worried, Momiji unconsciously edged closer to Kusanagi. "Is she going to try to kill me, Mamoru?"

He wrapped an arm around her and hugged her tightly. "I don't think so, Princess. Even if she does, I'll protect you. You...may not want to take her son from her, though. Give him to Kunikida and Takeuchi, and once she goes away you can get the kid."

Immediately, Momiji pulled away from Kusanagi. "You mean your son."

Rolling his eyes, Kusanagi said, "Don't start."

Offended, Momiji stood and glared. "You kidnap me, you drop this bomb on me about Amaterasu, and I bring up one thing—and you tell _me_ not to start?"

Kusanagi rose, too. "You would have been pissed at me if I didn't tell you what you are and you found out that I knew all along!"

Her eyes went wide, then narrowed into thin slits. "You knew all along?"

"See? I knew you would do this," he shot back.

"How long have you known? A week? A month? A year? My whole life?" Momiji was starting to feel frantic, having issues controlling her emotions around Kusanagi.

"Why does it matter?" Kusanagi wanted to know.

"You two are pathetic," rang a clear, familiar voice from the park walkway. Silhouetted by the overhead street lamp, Momiji could barely make out Sakura's form. "Did you finally tell her, plant boy?"

Kusanagi moved to stand between Sakura and Momiji but the brunette would have nothing of it. She was angry. She didn't want anything from Kusanagi.

"Not feeling chatty, are we?" Sakura continued. She adjusted something at her hip and Momiji gasped when she realized what Sakura held.

"Put Himoru down!" Momiji cried, starting up the slope to the walkway.

Sakura held a talisman between her fingers and it began to glow. "Take one more step, Amaterasu, and you'll regret it."

Whining, Himoru reached for Momiji and Kusanagi, only to be tucked back against Sakura. "Let him go," Momiji pleaded, reaching back for him.

"He's my son," Sakura pointed out. "Mine, not yours. I would rather die than let you raise him."

"There's something wrong with you," she told the blond woman. "You wouldn't want me to raise him because it's me. There's something wrong with you! He's just a child!"

Never one to depart without the last word, Sakura spoke. "That's right. He _is_ just a child. He's Himoru Yamazaki, son of Tsukuyomi. Pay attention, Sacrifice Girl: you will die, courtesy of me or this child."

And she was gone.

Distressed, Momiji whirled to face Kusanagi and grabbed the front of his shirt. Tears of fury and pain for the boy tracked down her cheeks. "Why didn't you do anything?!"

"Let me take you back to Kunikida," Kusanagi replied, avoiding the question. "We'll talk about this more in the morning."

"No! We have to go after him, Mamoru! We have to save him. He's just a child!" Momiji repeated. He had been growing on her at the house, and she was beginning to entertain the notion of actually raising the boy as Kasahiko's brother. It seemed now, though, that that wouldn't be possible.

"Sakura won't hurt him," Kusanagi assured her, scooping her up in his arms and once again taking flight. She fell silent during the trip back to the Kunikida residence, although Kusanagi could feel her crying against him.

At last, he landed in the yard and carried Momiji into the house to find Daitetsu and Ryoko seated at the kitchen table.

"What did you do to her?" Daitetsu demanded, leaping from his chair and lunging towards the Aragami man.

"I just told her the truth. Did you know that Sakura has taken Himoru?" Kusanagi wanted to know as he dodged Daitetsu's repeated attempts to harm him.

Ryoko answered that question. "We know. We let her. We didn't really have a choice."

Finally, Momiji let Kusanagi set her on her feet and brushed herself off. "I need to go back to Izumo and make sure that she doesn't do anything to Kasahiko."

A glance at the clock showed it was well past midnight. Ryoko hugged Momiji tightly and said, "We'll get you on the first train back to Izumo in the morning."

"No," Momiji refused. "I need to go now. My car is still in Shun's garage, so I can take that back to Izumo. I was planning on just letting Shun have it, but..." she trailed off and shook her head. "I need to make sure she's okay." A long moment passed before she turned back to Kusanagi. "I wish I didn't have to do this, but would you mind taking me to Shun's house?"

"Not at all," Kusanagi answered. "I can get you all the way to Izumo if you want."

Shaking her head, Momiji declined. "I'll need my car eventually."

"I'll get dressed and get my bag packed," Daitetsu volunteered. "I'll go with you on the ride to Izumo."

"They need you here, Mr. Kunikida," Momiji told him. "I don't want to be a burden on anyone."

"I can--" Ryoko started, but paused at the expression on Momiji's face. That left one other person to make the ride with her.

Everyone looked to Kusanagi.

"What?"

()()()

"I don't know how I got roped into this," Kusanagi muttered to himself, crammed into the front seat of Momiji's old Toyota Corolla. She had purchased it for her eighteenth birthday just before Kusanagi and she had ended things. He had never had a chance to ride in it. Kasahiko's spare carseat was strapped into the backseat, and Momiji was already considering buying a booster seat for Himoru.

"You didn't have to come," Momiji told him. "I said I didn't need anyone to come with me."

"Yeah, and I wouldn't hear the end of it from Kunikida or Takeuchi if I didn't. I'm supposed to protect you, anyway." Kusanagi was having trouble making himself comfortable in the cramped front seat. The car had sat in the garage for the most part since she had married Sugishita, only used on days when he had taken his better Honda out with him and she needed to get out of the house for errands.

"Why are you complaining then?" Momiji wanted to know.

"It would be easier to just fly you to Izumo," he answered, as if that explained everything.

Momiji could already feel the beginnings of a headache forming behind her eyes. "What if I turned on the radio? Would that make you happy?"

Without replying, Kusanagi pressed the power button on the radio. The CD player blared to life, belting out some heinous children's song. "What the _hell_?"

Momiji punched the radio button. "That's a CD I bought for my daughter. She loves it."

He eyed her with a skepticism. "If you say so. I don't see how anyone could like that crap."

She rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself quiet. The last thing she wanted was to be in the car with this lunatic who broke up with her because he didn't love _her_, he loved the danger she brought. She was the source of his adrenaline high. And for a while, that had hurt, knowing that he had never actually loved her one ounce as much as she had loved him. Now she was just angry, because she had a niggling feeling that he had actually broken up with her for another reason.

Angry, she stomped on the brakes and skidded to a stop on the road.

"What are you doing?" Kusanagi demanded. "You're going to get us killed!"

Momiji stared at him for a moment, then looked around her. "We're completely alone. There's nobody on the road. And we need to talk."

Looking even more uncomfortable, Kusanagi frowned at her. "Right now?"

"Right now."

He groaned. "Why? What do you want to talk about?"

"You broke up with me because you found out that I'm Amaterasu, didn't you?"

"What?"

"That was the reason, wasn't it?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because you lied to me, if that's the real reason. Why did you have to hurt me so badly, Kusanagi? Why couldn't you just tell me the truth?"

"Do we have to talk about this right now?"

"We _need_ to talk about this. Did you love me?"

"Momiji..."

"Did you love me?"

"That doesn't--"

"Did you love me, Kusanagi? I _need_ to know!"

"Of course I loved you!" he finally answered, yelling. "Dammit, Momiji. Why do you even need to ask?"

Welling up with tears, Momiji rested her head on the steering wheel. "You told me that you didn't. That you were in love with the danger I brought, and since the Aragami were defeated, there was no more danger."

He had forgotten he said that. "Don't cry, Momiji—god, don't cry."

"Why did you break up with me, Kusanagi?"

There was no getting around answering her. "I couldn't let my feelings get in the way of protecting you, Momiji. When I found out that you're Amaterasu, I knew I would have to spend the rest of my life protecting you. If I was in a relationship with you, I wouldn't be able to pay attention to you. I would always have to be watching around you. It's easier to just watch over you."

"You broke up with me for _convenience_?"

Kusanagi stared at her, silent.

"You broke up with me because it was _easier_ not to care?"

It hurt to hear it put that way. "I broke up with you so I could take care of you better."

Momiji leaned over, flipped open the door lock, and released the handle. The door swung open, letting the summer breeze sweep into the car. Without looking at him again, she gripped the steering wheel and said, "Get out."

He closed the door. "No."

She leaned over again and opened the door. "Get out of my car."

He closed it again. "No."

"I don't want to see you," Momiji said, her voice breaking. She hadn't bothered to sit straight again, having intended on opening the door until he finally left her car. Instead, she had ended up lying across his lap, the seatbelt digging into her but she couldn't seem to care. The last couple of days had been so taxing on her.

He stroked her hair gently, almost uncertainly. "I know you don't, Princess."

"Then why won't you leave me alone?" she whispered.

He kissed the top of her head and wanted to tell her that it was because he loved her still. He just couldn't bring himself to say it, though. "I can't," he said, helplessly.

Momiji wanted to tell him she loved him and had never stopped, but she couldn't. "I guess we should get going back to Izumo, then."


End file.
